


Media Consultant

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Character Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-02-03
Updated: 2001-02-03
Packaged: 2019-05-15 19:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14796254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Different people of the West Wing reflect on their lives so far.





	Media Consultant

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

 

RATING: G  
NOTES: New series. See Part One.  
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the West Wing or any of its related   
characters. Don't sue.   
SUMMARY: Different people of the West Wing reflect on their lives so   
far.

I miss coming around here. I'm not entirely sure what happened   
because it all happened so fast. I'm just stopping by to get the last   
of my stuff. I can't work here anymore, but still, I miss coming   
around here. There are lots of good people here.   
Yes, even Josh.  
Sometimes I wonder if the memo is what did me in. I doubt it   
though. I don't think I ever really fit in around here. I tried, but   
I think that some part of me never got over what happened on the   
campaign, and so my bitterness interfered with my social skills.  
Mind you, the memo certainly didn't help.  
I was only doing my job. I know now that it was more than that   
though. The bitterness was in the memo too. However, I want someone   
to just try and look me in the eye and say "that memo of yours did   
not do one shred of good." No one can; everyone recognized that I had   
some valid points; even this administration did because it started   
making policy changes within twenty-four hours of the senior staff   
reading the thing.   
I did my job. Nothing else.  
Now I've found another office and I'm back to freelancing. The way   
I understand it, no one had any objections to my resignation. Danny   
Concannon bugged me for a week, trying to get me to say that they   
forced me to resign; I think he felt guilty so he wanted to put the   
story on the front page. However I couldn't tell him what wasn't   
true. There was no story. I resigned by my own merit.   
There were a lot of things that prompted the decision. The memo   
may have been a small part of it; it may have gotten the idea into my   
head even, but it was not the reason I resigned and the resignation   
was not forced. The President met with me about it, told me that he   
was disappointed but he would allow it to go through provided that I   
utterly convince him that it was my choice and something that I   
really wanted to do. He said he did not want me to resign and that if   
I was receiving any sort of pressure to make this decision, he would   
not except the resignation.   
God bless that wonderful man.   
I told him I was receiving no pressure of any kind, that the   
decision was mine and it was what I truly wanted. He nodded, smiled   
weakly, said he'd miss my input, and then he gave me a hug and said   
good-bye. I haven't talked to him since, and I've only talked to the   
others very little.   
My life thus far has been strange. Granted, I grew up a spoiled   
rich kid who loves to argue, but there's more to me than that.   
There's so much more; I just never let anyone see it.   
Never mind that now.   
I think I was always destined for politics, what with the love for   
arguing and all. Sure, a hell of a lot of people love to argue, and   
everyone wants to be right, but a politician is someone who argues   
not because they want to be right, but because they are right. In   
political arguments, everybody's right. It's just a matter of who's   
tougher in the battle.  
Ever since I was a little kid, I've argued like a true politician:   
tough as nails. That's the way it's supposed to be done.  
There are some things that make me feel weak, and when I feel   
weak, I lash out. The memo was a lash out that was mixed with some   
truth. Some of the things I wrote in that thing weren't very nice, I   
admit, but the rest of it was the truth as I saw it.   
True, I may have been especially harsh on Josh, but that's just   
the consequence of things. His inflated ego deserved it.  
I respect these people. On the campaign, we worked so hard   
together, so closely. We got Bartlet the Oval Office. I know that   
people don't really see me as a part of that venture, but goddamn it,   
I was. I worked as hard as anyone on that campaign. Then, when it   
came time to pick staff positions, I was left out and we all went our   
separate ways. They went to the White House and I got a job at   
Lennox/Chase for $900,000 a year.   
My childhood was in no way traumatic. My parents are happy, loving   
people and they always have been. I was never abused, assaulted or   
mugged or tied up or whatever. I am not gay and I do not have any   
objections to people who are. I am not an "ice bitch" as I've heard   
myself referred to as.  
So why am I alone?  
I think I'd be happier if you didn't answer that question,   
actually. I don't want an answer. I've had three different jobs in as   
many years. I'd left all three by choice, but the choice was made   
because I no longer felt comfortable with the people I'd been working   
with. Does it say more about me or more about the world that I can't   
seem to get along with anybody for longer than ten to twelve months,   
I wonder?  
Don't answer that question either. It's rhetorical.  
My stuff is in a nice box, just waiting for me to come and pick it   
up. I'm going to miss this place. Sometimes I wonder if I can't take   
it all back. I think about it more, and I realize there's one thing   
that I can't take back or change and it's the most important thing.   
It's the thing that makes me an outsider now, the thing that sets me   
apart.  
I wasn't at Rosslyn.   
No one blames me for not being there, I know that. It just wasn't   
part of the plan. I made sure that everything at the meeting was   
going to go smoothly, and then I didn't come along. I wasn't there   
when bullets started flying; I didn't hear the screams; I didn't see   
the blood... I wasn't there.   
When Josh was shot, I came to the hospital. It was so hard for me   
because of all the conflicting feelings I have for him, but I was   
there. I tried to be there for him and for the others... But I   
wasn't there when it counted; I wasn't there when the bullets started   
flying. I just wasn't there. Donna took care of Josh. Toby and Leo   
handled Josh's workload. I just couldn't help but disappear into the   
background.   
When the chance came, I found another job and I resigned. No one   
said anything except the president. So like that, I left the White   
House.  
Daisy is staying behind to work in the communications department.   
I know Toby and Sam will take good care of her. They're good people.   
They all are. CJ and I have clashed a few dozen times, but she's a   
good person. I'm a good politician, and she's a good person. That's   
why we clashed.   
I clashed with all of them, now that I think about it. We never   
really fit together, and by "we", I mean them and me. They were a   
family all on their own, and I was the outsider, the one to fight   
with. I never felt welcome here; I've never fit in; So I left, or   
actually, I'm still in the process of leaving. I think some people   
are glad to be rid of me. It's kind of depressing. I feel like as   
soon as the door closes behind me, they'll break out the champagne.  
My entire life, I've tried to be the best person I could be.   
Somehow I think that whoever that person is, she's not very popular.   
Can it be that I failed that miserably? On the outside, I try not to   
let people see how I feel. I allow myself small bouts of emotions, I   
guess, but I would never let anyone see me cry. I've been crying a   
lot lately.   
There's something in the box that I know I didn't put there. It's   
a card with a picture of two Golden Labradors sitting on the edge of   
a dock, staring at the horizon with their backs to the camera. I feel   
the tears threaten as I open the card and find it signed by the   
senior staff and a few other people. In the center of the card is the   
printed message "We wish you luck in your future, but we'll miss you   
just the same."   
I put the card back in its envelope and turn towards the door just   
in time to see a figure walking away, a figure that's obviously   
Josh's. I smile weakly, thinking about all the good times we did   
have. With a sigh, I grab the box and head back into the hallway. I'm   
proud to have worked here.   
Softly, I say goodbye.

***********************

  


End file.
